To Smile at the Rain
by Rose and Thorn
Summary: A year after the accident, Susan remembers. A sequel to "To Greet the Morning". Rating changed for character death.
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** A sequel to "To Greet the Morning". Didn't think I'd write this, but my mind works in strange ways. I hope you like it.

I won't be posting anything new for a while, I think. My brain needs a break and my life has suddenly become extremely busy. Don't worry, I'll be back in a couple of weeks.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. If it were mine, I'd be a genius. And do I look like a genius? No. Not at all. It's all Lewis'.

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It has been a year. Only a year? It feels like a lifetime.

A lifetime since I saw their smiles and heard their laugh. A lifetime since the day that changed my life. The day that broke my spirit and tossed it aside like a broken and unwanted toy. A lifetime since the accident.

Accident? Or was it some malicious trick of the Evil One? Was this fated? Was it meant to be? Questions overwhelmed me for a time and I just wanted to die. I just wanted to forget that this ever happened. Why me? Why my family? Why was I left behind?

When I saw their coffins that day, those strong, varnished boxes, I felt as though my life was over. I cried, not because I felt like crying, but because it was expected of me. The emotions I felt ran deeper than mere tears. It felt like I was being crushed under the weight of these emotions. As though my heart was being twisted and torn, and as though my soul was trapped in a prison of grief.

Then something wonderful happened. Something that uplifted and comforted me. I remembered. I _remembered_. I remembered the rushing water that trickled over the rocks and crevices, the sound of the wind rustling through the trees and dancing in the Dryads' hair, the taste of spring on the tip of my tongue, so warm and tangible, and the feel of the sun on my face. I remembered Narnia, and, more importantly, I remembered him. My comforter, my saviour - _Aslan_.

Warmer than the sun's rays, more vibrant than the greenest grass, he whispered in my ear words of love and sympathy. I wanted to hit him, to hate him, to make him feel a fraction of the agony that twisted and wrenched my heart... but I couldn't. He was so good and so noble. Too good and too noble to bother with someone like me, the one who betrayed him and Narnia in more ways then Edmund ever did. Yes, I remember Edmund's betrayal now.

He forgave Edmund, just as he forgave me that day of the funeral. As I remembered Narnia, I remembered his love and unfailing mercy. The mercy and love that enveloped me and made me feel as though everything would be fine - eventually.

As I stand before these five headstones, these five, tidy headstones, I smile and whisper words of love I hope they hear.

"I'm – happy, Mum, and I miss you."

"I'm strong, Dad, and I love you."

"Don't forget me, Peter, and please forgive me for not listening. I love you."

"Lucy, dear heart, for you I wake each morning striving to do my best. You'll never know how much I miss you."

I pause. Somehow Edmund's is the hardest words to whisper. He was always so different to Peter and Lucy. Full of mischief and fun as a child, but of a more serious, brooding nature as he grew older. He understood most of all, I think, the trouble I faced fitting in with the "real world".

"I – love – you, Edmund," I sob out. Darn the tears that fall. I'm supposed to be strong. " Forgive me, _please_."

My heart was buried with my family that day, and still remains under the green sod. It will never go to another. My soul, however, is happy. Happy in the knowledge that someday - someday soon - I will be with Aslan and my family again. Never more to be parted.  


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**Please review**


	2. Chapter 2

**An:** This happens three years after the last chapter.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. Lewis is King of the Chronicles.

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Blackness. Everywhere. Covering my sight. A black abyss. A dull, shooting pain.

I – can't – stand – it.

I struggle. I fight. I have to see... but the darkness is so strong.

"Susan...shhh, dear."

A voice, motherly, kind, sad. Something's wrong here, I know that voice. That voice is one that is harsh and authoritative, usually. That voice is–

"Aunt Alberta?"

My voice seems to break out of nowhere. How child-like it sounds – almost like Lucy's used to be. My head whirls as I try to make sense of my surroundings. As I try to remember what happened. Nothing.

"What happened?" I quaver, trying to ease the panic I feel.

"You were – in an accident." Why is she hesitating? What's wrong? "You're very ill, Susan."

"My sight?" I ask.

A rustling and a wet towel is lifted from my eyes. I blink, dazedly. So I'm not blind, as I thought. The relief I feel is quickly replaced by a feeling of crushing anxiety. Almost my entire body is swabbed in bandages. They're leaking and a wet liquid coats my hands.

"My head hurts," I say, trying to hide the fear I feel, " and so do my legs and side. Aunt Aberta! I'm bleeding!"

I watch as Aunt Alberta rises from her chair. She looks so old, suddenly, so old and tired. She places the book she had been reading carefully on her chair and turns to me. She's crying. Now I know something is definitely wrong. Aunt Alberta never cries. Has never cried, but once, and that was when she heard of Eustace's death. She's usually so strong.

"You were in an accident..." The words seem to linger in the air, and once again she weeps.

It's getting so hazy. Accident? What accident? I blink again, trying to remember.

"A car accident," she clarifies. "It hit you as you were crossing the street."

Now I remember. The whirling lights, the feeling of pain as I was hurtled through the air.

"Susan ... you're in the hospital, dear, and, due to your injuries - they say there's nothing they can do. Susan –"

I hear no more. Suddenly it all becomes clear. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. Strangely, I feel no fear.

"They can't stop the bleeding, Susan. They say you have internal injuries. They say –"

"How long," I interrupt.

"You've been here only a day. They did everything they could."

"No," I try to shake my head. "I mean, how long until I go _home_?"

"Home?"

"Until I see Peter, Edmund, Lucy?"

"Oh." The tears come to her eyes again. "Soon."

Soon. It's such a strange word. It's unclear. Soon could mean the next few minutes or the next few hours. My mind drifts and I wonder whether my brothers and sister felt this way when the train crashed. It seems ironic that I, too, am dying in a similar way. Soon … soon …

"Susan!" someone's patting my cheek, urging me to wake up. No, no, must sleep. The darkness is too strong … it's coming again. I smile slightly as my aunt's face fades from view. Poor Aunt Alberta...

A feeling of peace surrounds me as I slip from consciousness. Soon … soon …

"Susan? Oh, Susan!"

Why do people keep waking me up? Why can't I sleep?

"Susan?"

Shaking me. Trying to wake me up. I try to protest, to tell these people that I'm hurt. Don't they know that I'm bleeding to death? With a jolt I realize that I'm not hurting any more. I'm fine. I feel fine.

I open my eyes.

And promptly shut them again.

It can't be. They're dead. I buried them. Strong arms hug me close and I dare to look again.

Peter's smile.

Lucy's grin.

Edmund's smirk.

I'm finding it hard to breathe again. Happy tears flood my eyes. Where am I?

"You are in my country, Susan," A voice, noble and strong, answers my thought.

Aslan.

I rise shakily to my feet, my living siblings supporting me, and make my way towards the lion. I sink at his feet, burying my face in the fur of his mane.

"Aslan, I'm so sorry," I sob.

"I would be the last to reproach you, my child," he murmurs. "You have my forgiveness."

All the emotions of grief and pain I experienced in the past four years come flooding back. I look shyly towards my three grinning siblings who hug me once more.

"Do you believe in Narnia now, Susan?" Edmund teases. I offer a shaky smile in return, glad to be the victim of his teasing.

"How could I not, Edmund?" I reply. "How could I not?"

And looking towards the golden lion, I felt as though I was finally home.


End file.
